Page 16 of The Billionaire's Proposal

Darkness falls, and the only evidence of the sun being here are purple and orange streaks far on the horizon.

“Agreed if you answer this question. Are you in debt? This is an expensive boat.”

The commercial is a drop in the bucket to someone like him, and now, he thinks he should know my personal problems.

When I don’t answer, he says, “That’s why I’m here… to help.”

I stand up and walk to the helm. I turn the engine over and run back down. “Help me untie the boat. We’re going for a ride.”

His eyebrows climb high on his forehead at my announcement, but he follows me to dislodge the boat. After we’ve been cruising in the harbor for ten minutes, I let it idle.

“Have you been on the ocean at night?”

“No,” he replies.

“You don’t have your own yacht?”

“I don’t.”

“Why?” It seems absurd. All rich people have yachts.

He retrieves the second bottle of wine, uses a simple corkscrew to uncork it, and pours himself a new glass.

“My fiancée hated the water.”

Hated? As in past tense? He’s not wearing a wedding ring and in my little research, he seemed single. No mention of a girlfriend in the recent social posts.

He rubs his temple and then flashes a smile, though there’s a hint of sorrow hidden behind the facade. It’s the kind of smile that’s covering pain. I know that smile. “She didn’t like to swim either, but she would venture in a pool if she could hold onto me.”

His words carry a sense of intimacy that catches me off guard, making me feel a connection beyond what’s appropriate for our situation. Yet, I can’t deny the intrigue and attraction I feel towards him when he seems vulnerable. The conversation seems too personal for us, yet I need to know more.

Winslow stares at the dark-blue sea before turning his gaze on me. The look in his eyes is a mixture of sadness and either desire or guilt.

“So, you never bought a yacht because of her fear?” I ask.

He takes another sip of his drink before responding with a wistful tone, “I never wanted to be anywhere else but by her side, so no water sports or nighttime cruises like this. Anyway, back to you, Ms. Darling.”

His hand inches towards mine, and there’s an underlying tension between us. Maybe he needs a rebound sex after breaking up with his fiancée.

He faces my profile and waits for me to look him in the eye. And when our eyes collide, there’s more than a man doing a segment for a television station. Winslow Worthington looks like he could eat me alive. My mind wanders to all the places on this boat I could lie back, spread eagle, and let him have dessert.

“Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are the color of butterscotch?”

I swallow. “You’re the first.”

His face inches towards mine, and I swear he’s going to kiss me. My heart pounds, wanting his lips on mine. His mouth is so close to mine, and then a thud sounds from behind us, and we jerk away, bringing us out of the moment.

I’ve been listening so intently, then wanting for our lips to collide, I forgot all about the film crew until one drops the camera.

Mr. Worthington coughs, creating space between us. “Umm, how much do you owe on the boat?”

“A half million.” I’m still wrapped up in the almost kiss and nearly swooning and answer despite my earlier vow to not give him an eye to my finances.

“Are your payments on time?”

“I’m a month behind, but summer will get me through.”

He seems to take that as an acceptable answer when his phone rings, and another gorgeous man’s face pops up. “Hey, brother. Just got into town. How did the day with the boat captain go?”

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